


Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow - A Fire Emblem Drabble Collection

by savvylikeapirate



Category: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 13:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11829939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvylikeapirate/pseuds/savvylikeapirate
Summary: I've been using FE:A ship prompts as warm-ups, but some of them actually turned out to be readable. The pairings will vary widely, as will the content of each drabble.





	1. The Gentlest Touch (Lon'qu/Libra)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Prompt Collection! The updates for this will, unfortunately, not be entirely regular. The drabbles will be posted as they are completed, and the tags will update accordingly.
> 
> If you like what you find here and want to send me a prompt for your own pairing, either leave one in the comments or contact me at savvylikeapirate on tumblr. 
> 
> Given that these are essentially writing exercises, I will gladly accept critiques and comments. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

 

They both had a  _ thing _ about touch. 

 

After spending most of their lives only knowing the painful kind, it made them wary of others’ hands and skin. Being close to someone like that required a trust that they were no longer capable of. It made them seem aloof at best, skittish at worst. 

 

This was different. 

 

Libra’s hair often curled right after he got out of the bath. Long ash-gold strands twisted in on themselves like a cat squirming away from the water. Lon’qu soaked in the sight he made as he entered their shared tent. Libra’s fair skin was flushed from residual heat and the soft white shirt he wore beneath his robes clung to the damp places on his back and shoulders. 

 

It was so easy to forget that when he’d left half an hour earlier he’d been covered in gore and the grime of battle. The only remnant was the cut on his lower lip where he’d taken an armored sucker punch to the face. Lon’qu’s dark eyes lingered on it. He wanted to bite that healing slit open and taste his angel blood. He wanted to suck bruises into that graceful neck. 

 

He wanted to remain right where he was, laid out on his own cot, watching Libra dry his hair. 

 

Libra paused, towel in hand, and smiled gently at Lon’qu. “See something interesting?” he asked, his voice dove-coo soft. 

 

Lon’qu gestured with a jut of his chin at Libra’s curled hair. “I can take care of that for you,” he muttered.

 

Libra’s green eyes crinkled with humor. “I supposed you learn how to care for hair from Basilio, hm? No thank you. I’ll keep mine as it is.”

 

“I wasn’t gonna shave it or anything,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “I can brush it. Braid it too. So it’s out of the way.”

He was surprised at the offer, tilting his head and considering Lon’qu with all of the apathy and clear observation of a cat. “... Hm. I suppose better you than Lissa. You may assist me if you like.”

 

Lon’qu moved to Libra’s cot and sat behind him with his legs crossed. He took up Libra’s wooden comb and carefully began stroking it a few sections at a time. It felt like cool cornsilk in his hands, and matched in color. Libra sat perfectly still in front of him. The only thing differentiating him from a statue was the shifting of his wet shirt against his shoulders with each soft breath. 

 

His calloused fingers sorted Libra’s hair into plaits and smoothly began braiding. “Why don’t you ever tie your hair back in battle?” he asked, voice hushed. 

 

“It hasn’t gotten in my way yet,” Libra replied. “Are you going to ask why I haven’t cut it?”

 

“No. It’s too nice to cut.” Lon’qu covered up his sudden fluster with a cough and tied the end of the braid with a thin leather strip. “There. Done.” He scooted back on the cot, putting space between the two of them.

 

Libra looked over his shoulder and touched the plait with his fingertips, feeling how even and smooth it was. “Thank you,” he murmured, turning to face Lon’qu on the cot. 

 

Those sharp green eyes regarded him once more, just as inscrutable and lovely as always. One of Libra’s fine-fingered, but still calloused, hands slowly reached his way. Lon’qu braced himself, but didn’t move away. Libra gently adjusted the front of Lon’qu’s hair and trailed those fingers down to press to the curve of his cheek.

Lon’qu flushed deeply, but turned his face to nuzzle at Libra’s wrist. His skin smelt of healing salve and fresh grass. “You’re welcome,” he finally replied, the corners of his mouth twitching into a shy smile. 

 


	2. For You My Vegetable Love Will Grow (Cynthia/Gerome)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little more experimental, but if you like what you find here and want to send me a prompt for your own pairing, either leave one in the comments or contact me at savvylikeapirate on tumblr.
> 
> Quick reminder that I will gladly accept critiques and comments.
> 
> Please enjoy!

 

His love for her grew naturally, but not slowly. It wasn’t the gentle blossoming of a rose or the steady grace of a tree. His love for Cynthia was more like kudzu, a great squirming vine that had no mercy towards anyone or anything. It crept forward endlessly, as unstoppable and overwhelming as the tides. Whatever lived there before she overcame his heart was but a memory covered in twisting green. 

 

Gerome felt it growing in the small moments they had together. The gleaming sound of her laugh or the way sunlight glinted off her armor each twirled greedy love around his elbows and knees. The whipping blue of her hair and mischief in her eyes took over his fingers and toes. 

 

At times he felt that the only way he could even move in battle was because his ever-growing love sought to grow in her light. He did his best to prune it away so it didn’t show, but he knew it was a losing battle. One day, surely, she’d look at him and see leaves sprouting from his ears and tendrils swirling like filigree over his armor. 

 

This was unacceptable. She had things to worry about like the battles ahead and keeping her own once-lost family safe. Even if they were some of the strongest people he’d ever met, he knew that strength sometimes failed. It was why all of them were there to begin with. The great strength of their mothers would never be without the accompanying fear of their children. 

 

He instead hid his fear and his love under his mask and tucked between Minerva’s scales. Her warm, firm body pillowed his head and her wings covered him as he let his emotions bleed out one by one until he no longer felt like a pot overflowing. Blessed, beautiful wyverns had hearts like geodes. There was a finite amount of love that had to be striven for and all but stolen away. Sweet, good Minerva never had to worry about love grown out of control, about its leaves waiting to fall gracelessly out of her lips. Not like he did.

It was there Cynthia found him one night, tucked between the wyvern’s body and wing, his mask abandoned. One of her soft hands soothed against his back as she laid down to face him. She gave him a warm smile, and the love within outgrew its confines and leaked through his eyes. 

The kiss she gave him tasted like strawberries, wild and running in long lines over the ground. 


	3. Waking Dreams (Lon'qu/Panne)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that I accept critiques, comments, and prompts!
> 
> If you have any of these three, feel free to leave them in the comments section or at my tumblr.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

He woke to the warm body at his side shifting in discomfort and rising. Panne’s pawed feet padded softly out of the bedroom, but she paused in the doorway.

 

“I can hear that you are awake,” she murmured, voice deep and hoarse with sleep. “Go back to sleep, my One.”

 

“What has you out of our bed?” Lon'qu replied, sitting up. “Is it the baby?”

 

Her face pinched wistfully and her hands rested over the swelling curve of her belly. “Something like that. I’ll make up the lost sleep with a nap. Fret not.”

 

“Then I’ll nap with you later and wake with you now.” He stood and stretched his arms over his head as he strode towards her. “I’ll start some tea.”

 

They walked together to their kitchen. The fire in the hearth had fallen down to embers, but Lon’qu stoked it back to life as Panne slowly settled herself into a chair. Her balance had been thrown off something terrible by the pregnancy and it was as much a struggle to sit as it was to stand.

 

“The green tin, please,” she said. He looked at her in surprise over his shoulder as he put the kettle on to boil, but grabbed the requested tea for her. It was the blue one for him.

 

“You going to tell me why you can’t sleep? It’s not heartburn again. You would have just come out and told me.”

 

Panne huffed through her nose. “And you would have certainly heard it if I was getting sick.”

 

“That I would.” He smiled softly and sat across from her, taking her hand in both of his. “And you’re also stalling.”

 

“There’s no getting past you, hm?” She replied, squeezing his fingers.

 

“Panne.” Lon'qu looked directly into her eyes. “Tell me.”

 

Her dark eyelashes fluttered as she stared at their twined hands. “I went to see Maribelle and Lissa the other day. To check on the Kit’s progress.”

 

His hands suddenly tightened on hers. “Is the baby-?”

 

“Yes, yes. We’re both healthy. But… They forbade me from drinking my tea. The one for sleep.” She shifted in her seat, attempting to put a little less pressure on her left hip. “And naturally I’ve had difficulty without it.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Both of them jolted when the kettle whistled. Lon’qu reluctantly let go of her hand to fix their tea. It made a swell of pride bloom in Panne’s chest to see how far he’d come. They had been engaged for months before he would dare attempt a kiss, and now he lingered close as though loath to part from her skin.

 

Oh no, that wasn’t just pride. _That_ was heartburn.

 

“So,” he began, setting their respective mugs down. “Nightmares?”

 

“Yes,” she replied curtly, sipping her tea. “Though these are different. They are not memories, but fears.”

 

“Fears?” Lon’qu leaned across to brush his thumb along her cheekbone. “Tell me.”

 

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “The kit. Sometimes I dream that we all live together in the taguel village and then the raid comes. In those dreams he is ripped from my arms or worse.”

 

Lon’qu didn’t move to embrace her. They both knew that it would only make her lash out. The warm look in his eyes and firm pressure of his hand in hers was comfort enough. There weren’t words for such a fear, no comfort other than stability. She had to look away lest he see the tears building in her eyes.

 

“Panne. Don’t hide from me,” he murmured. “Don’t hide anything.”

 

“Because you’ll always find it or track me down, is that right?”

 

“It is.” He smiled softly. “I’ll follow you anywhere. And you trust me, don’t you? More than any other man?”

 

She looked up at him and returned his smile with a watery one. “More than any other. To the ending of the world and beyond.”

 

“Then when you have nightmares, wake me. I’ll fight them with you. We fight best together,” he said, thumb brushing over the ring he had given her so long ago.

 

“Yes,” she replied, squeezing his hand back firmly. “Together.”

 

 


	4. Genius Is as Genius Does (Cordelia/M!Robin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ran away from me a little bit and got longer than I intended, but seemed to come out well enough. 
> 
> Reminder, again, that I welcome comments and critiques as well as additional ship prompts. Any of those can be sent to my tumblr, posted in the comments section here, or DM-ed to me. 
> 
> Enjoy the too-long-to-be-a-drabble!

 

Though she did her best not to hate anything, Cordelia decided that she absolutely loathed being called a genius. She was talented, yes. Hardworking, absolutely. However, surely no supposed genius would be as blindingly oblivious as she.   
  


For years she had carried her feelings for Chrom within her, burning like a torch under her armor. She’d be his Pegasus Knight, his guardian in the air as Frederick was on the ground. Her fervor and skill had earned her a position of honorable command, but also that of a social pariah.    
  


It must have been the social ineptitude that brought her here. She had been misreading the signs the whole time, and now here she was. Out of the proverbial frying pan and into the fryer. Getting over one hopeless crush, only to flop into another.    
  


Chrom, bless his Exalted head, wasn’t interested in her. She didn’t know why and wasn’t about to be so rude as to press him for answers. She wasn’t entitled to any. Maybe it was because she was taller than him? Some men were sensitive about that sort of thing. 

 

Robin was a different animal. While Chrom stayed at a distance, Robin embraced becoming her friend. Perhaps they were even best friends now. He was kind and patient and somehow unintimidated by her. Her skills and work inspired admiration instead of envy. 

Somehow, that made this whole situation worse.

 

Yes, she wasn’t the best at understanding friendships or social cues, but she’d have to be absolutely blind to not see it. Robin and Chrom were joined at the hip, somehow closer than any two people she had ever seen. They fought side-by-side in perfect unison and leaned together when they laughed by the fire. She’d spent years watching Chrom from a distance and somehow had never seen anything like the new light that shone from his eyes.    
  


It figured. It absolutely figured that the two men she had feelings for were gay for each-other.

 

Cordelia sighed and carved the design into her new javelin with a pen knife. Crafting had become a nice escape, a pleasant hobby she could get lost in while letting the rest of the world fade away. The fact that Robin had admired it so much was really just a perk. 

 

“Hey there.”   
  


His voice, though soft, made her jerk in surprise and nearly cut herself. “Robin! Where did you come from?”   
  


“The door,” he replied, grinning. "And before that, outside."

 

Cordelia smiled back, blushing a little and hoping it was covered by embarrassment. “What brings you to me today?” she asked.

 

It was his turn to blush, pink rising to the tips of his ears. “Um, something personal. But it’s important that I tell you.”   
  


Oh. Oh here it was. No one had ever come out to her before, but she figured she’d just handle it with as much grace and kindness as possible and hope for the best. Robin was her friend before anything else; she’d be a worthy one in return.   
  


“Have a seat,” she said, motioning to the other side of the workbench. “Tell me what troubles you.”

Robin fidgeted with his robes as he sat, trying to find his words. “My heart troubles me. I’m not entirely sure where to begin or how to say what is on it.”   
  
Oh, the poor dear.    
  
Cordelia offered, “Would it help if I said that I think I know your problem?”

 

“You do?” he replied, wide-eyed and blushing harder. “Y-you could have told me!”   
  


“I… thought it something best left for you to say on your own.”

 

Robin seemed confused. “Did you not have an opinion on the matter?”   
  


She bit her lip, knowing that she had to tread carefully here. “I do have an opinion. And it is that of… friendship and support.”   
  


“Support?!” he sputtered, looking stricken. “Well, that’s one way to let someone down.”   
  


“How am I letting you down?” she asked. What had she done wrong to put that hurt look into his eyes? “I thought you would be glad to have it!”   
  


“It’s just… that out of all things, I never expected that you of all people to offer their support of someone else living in unrequited love.” Robin was looking away from her now, his fists gripping the fabric of his robe.

“Unre-” Cordelia paused, then gasped. “Oh Robin! Surely you know he feels the same!”

 

“What?” He looked over at her blankly.

 

“Chrom! I thought the two of you were already together, but of course he loves you too. Your feelings aren’t unrequited at all!” She finished with a smile, aching internally from the forced cheer.

 

Robin’s mouth flopped uselessly for a moment before he shouted, “I’m not in love with Chrom!”

 

“You’re not?” Had she been reading it wrong?

 

“No! He’s in love with Olivia in any case and keeps gushing and sighing about her at every waking moment.”

 

Cordelia swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Who… who are you in love with then?”

 

As he looked at her, his face began to glow with warm tenderness and exasperation. “It’s you, Cordelia,” he said. “It’s always and only been you. So what is your opinion on that?”

 

Her face flared brightly in a blush. “In that case… I am… very glad to hear it. You know how I feel about unrequited love. It’s a sorry state of affairs.” 

 

Robin’s smile grew wide and he pulled her into his arms with surprising strength. “I take it you like this outcome better than me being with Chrom, hm?”   
  


She grinned and pressed her ear to his chest. “Much better.”

 

“Can’t believe you didn’t notice before. I was pretty obvious about it.”

 

Cordelia blinked up at him. “Really? I couldn’t see it.”

 

He snorted and flicked her in the forehead, then kissed that same spot better. “Genius.”


End file.
